


To the Bone

by Its_real_for_us



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/F, Femslash, First Kiss, First Time, Fluff and Angst, Fred Weasley Dies, Friends to Lovers, Grief/Mourning, Hurt/Comfort, Post-Battle of Hogwarts, Sapphic September, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-20
Updated: 2020-09-20
Packaged: 2021-03-07 22:00:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,765
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26554735
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Its_real_for_us/pseuds/Its_real_for_us
Summary: Hermione twisted and turned in her sleep, somewhere stuck between both realms.“Who's there?”The noise continued,“who's there?”but the knocking didn't stop. She waked, suddenly. Someone was actually at her front door.Rubbing her eyes, Hermione walked to the door sleepily and turned the knob without a second thought.“Ginny?” There she stood. Her red, soaking locks framing her porcelain visage. Hermione turned her head inside and glanced outside her window. It was pouring. She hadn't even realised. “You were out there,” she stuttered, “all alone in the cold, but why?”
Relationships: Hermione Granger/Ginny Weasley
Comments: 12
Kudos: 201





	To the Bone

_Fuck._ Hermione peered down at the piece of parchment below her fingertips. She'd just spilled her brand new, high quality ink all over her bureau. _Where's my bloody wand?_

The nervous witch quickly looked around her small flat. On one of her tall, mahogany bookshelves, between the book she was currently reading, she saw the wand she'd gotten her first year in Diagon Alley. There it laid: vine wood and dragon heartstring. She still loved it all the same; her first token of the Wizarding World.

Absentmindedly, Hermione summoned it to her side. Accio was one of the few charms she'd gotten attuned to without her wand, and she refused to use wandless magic unless it was absolute and perfected beyond an arguable doubt.

“Scourgify,” she voiced, fearing its usual soapy qualities wouldn't be enough this time around. _I'm sure it's going to leave behind some stains!_ She sighed, transient relief filling her full as a new piece of parchment paper awaited her on a clear desktop.

Hermione sat down, studying the rise and fall of her chest. Today would be the third day Ginny hadn't answered her many owls. She was so worried. Only days ago, she'd spoken with Molly at The Burrow when Ginny and all the others had refused to come down and chatter over afternoon tea. They were still grieving. It made sense. The war had only ended a month ago, tomorrow.

Yes, that day, May 2nd, 1998, would go down in history. The Great Battle of Hogwarts, where good had triumphed the dark forces. However, none of that seemed to matter right now. One collective evil was gone, but it didn't mean it hadn't been replaced with other extremes just as powerful: grief and sorrow and longing for impossible futures that could now never be.

Fred Weasley, even with the little she knew of him, had always been a kind-hearted, humorous, and brave young wizard. The epitome of a Gryffindor at heart. She'd valued him for that, and she knew many did. Hermione thought of Angelina Johnson and sighed, still trying to grapple with how unfair it all was. _One death hurts so many, too many..._

Hermione would never forget Mrs. Weasley's eyes the last time she saw her, let alone George's who had only came into the kitchen for another sleeping draught. That image would haunt her until her last dying breath on her deathbed. Nobody should have to lose a son, a twin, a brother, a lover in that way.

“Ginny,” Hermione started. Her fingers trembled as she dipped her quill into her no-name, backup ink jar. “Are you still coming today to my flat? Your mother informed me you would, that she'd make sure you would. I'm worried about you. I know you're hurting,” she wrote before scratching out the last line. I don't know how she's hurting. _Nobody as close to me, as Fred was to her, died._ “I can only imagine how much you're hurting. I'm so, so sorry you have to go through this. None of you deserve it. You're all far too good for such weighted pain.

But please, Ginny, come see me. You need some air.” Her parents might have been obliviated, but it simply wasn't the same. They weren't dead, and Hermione knew she was going to find them and retrieve their memories somehow. It's why she'd gotten a flat so rapidly. She knew school would start again soon, but her parents came first.

Hermione had promised herself that she'd go back and finish her last year, afterwards. Hopefully, with Ginny by her side, even if she had a year more to do. She didn't mind. Hermione wanted the witch to graduate as well. Her future didn't merit to suffer too.

“I don't know how much help I can be, but I want to try. Anything at all I can do, I'll take.” Hermione signed her name and beckoned the owl she'd just received as a gift from Harry to take the letter to The Burrow. She watched as Snark flew eloquently outside of her windowpane, crossing her fingers, Ginny would show in the late afternoon. _It's still possible she decides to come later on this evening._

Hermione knew it was most probably wishful thinking, but she'd remain hopeful. She had to be. Being a realist, or a pessimist, or the middle ground in between, hadn't cut it all of these years. It never made her happy. _Happy._ After the war, and Lupin and Tonks and Snape and Fred and Voldemort, that's all she wanted. _I want to be happy. I want her to be happy._

She waited anxiously as the hours tiptoed away from her reach. Every new minute brought with it more angst. Hermione imagined Ginny locked away in her room as she cried. Knots formed in her empty stomach. She hadn't eaten since the night prior. All of this worrying really had taken its toll. Hermione just wanted to see her already, to make sure she was okay.

Logically, she knew Ginny wasn't, but it didn't change the want to see her, nevertheless. The clock struck 9. _She's obviously not coming._ Hermione laid back, almost as if to rest in her distress. She closed her eyes, and before she knew it, sleep took her to more nerve-wracking nightmares of Ginny, George, Molly, Ron, and the rest of the Weasley family.

Even if she and Ron were no longer talking since she'd rejected his approaches pre-war, she still cared for him like a brother. She was happy he wasn't home and stayed at Snape Manor with Harry. Hermione was even happy he'd started to talk to a Hufflepuff witch a year or so younger than he. He deserved happiness, all the same.

She hoped they'd be able to reconcile their friendship. Hermione couldn't imagine a lifetime where the The Golden Trio weren't all friends. After all, they'd spent all their secondary years together.

Hermione twisted and turned in her sleep, somewhere stuck between both realms. _“Who's there?”_ The noise continued, _“who's there?”_ but the knocking didn't stop. She waked suddenly. Someone was actually at her front door.

Rubbing her eyes, Hermione walked to the door sleepily and turned the knob without a second thought.

“Ginny?” There she stood—her red, soaking locks framing her porcelain visage. Hermione turned her head inside and glanced outside her window. It was pouring. She hadn't even realised. “You were out there,” she stuttered, “all alone in the cold, but why?”

Hermione studied Ginny's face as she had her own breaths earlier. She'd expected her eyes to be bloodshot red, and the little mascara she wore to be streaming down her face. There was none of that. Ginny seemed frozen, completely disconnected.

“No worries about that,” Hermione said. “Come in, come in.” Ginny slowly moved forward as Hermione opened her door wildly. “Give me just one second.”

Hermione brusquely went to the closet down the corridor and got a couple of blankets. She couldn't even begin to structure her thoughts. _She was- She seems so- I don't know what-_ She didn't know what to think.

Hurrying, she closed the door to the closet and brought both blankets to Ginny. _Why isn't she taking them? Fuck. What's wrong with her?_ _She's gotten me already so beyond worried!_

“Um, I'm sure you're freezing,” Hermione murmured as she carefully unfolded a blanket and wrapped it around Ginny hesitantly. To her happy surprise, Ginny didn't seem to be put off by her action. “Do you want a cup of tea?”

 _I'm being so awkward! What am I supposed to say? Or do? Maybe I'm making things worse. Fuck._ Hermione didn't usually curse, but she was scrambling. _How can I help?_

“It's okay, 'Mione.” 'Mione? Hermione looked up. _She's talking, thank Merlin_! The nickname fell off Ginny's tongue like thick honey and warmed Hermione's insides. _Just maybe, I'm helping. I hope. She seems genuine._

“Are you sure?” Hermione looked into those familiar bright brown eyes. "There's nothing you need?" she asked, tightening the blanket around Ginny's front as she continued to look into her fiery hold.

Tears began to furiously stream down Ginny's face, and before Hermione knew it, Ginny had her head on her shoulder as she wept.

Hermione's heart screamed in horror. She knew she wasn't the one that was supposed to cry, but she couldn't help it. She kept her cries silent, regarding Ginny's grief that she knew was much greater than her own. They stayed like that for a long time, just standing there as Ginny sobbed, before the redhead finally pulled back.

With her thumb, Hermione soaked up as many tears as she could under Ginny's eyes. Slowly she whispered “it's okays” and “shhs” as she did so. Hermione knew those words made no sense, at the moment, but nothing else seemed too either.

Slowly, Ginny's eyes aligned with hers once more, and before Hermione could go along repeating sweet nothings, Ginny jolted forward and dragged their lips into a searing hot kiss.

Saltwater tears fell down her cheeks as Ginny smoothed their lips together, seeming to hold onto any warmth she could get. It was all soft and passion, warm and want.

“Ginny,” Hermione gasped as she pulled back from their embrace. Her eyes were wide and lust-blown. “W-What are you doing?”

“Please,” she muttered. _Fuck._

“What do you mean, please?”

“I can feel the way you look at me...” _What, I know for a fact that I'm not that obvious!_ Tears were still streaming down Ginny's face. Hermione furrowed her eyebrow.

“Wha-”

“Okay, I'll be honest, I heard Ron complaining to Harry about finding your diary and how he'd read passages about your crush on me, that you've had one for years. Is that true?”

 _That right foul-_ But there was no time to think about that right now. Ginny already knew, anyway, and she was standing right here, crying in front of Hermione's eyes. _She's only doing this because she's grieving. I know it. I can't take advantage of her like that!_

“If it is, I had no idea. Absolutely none.”

“It is,” Hermione said simply. “But, I can't, Ginny.” _Even if I want to._

“Please,” she cooed. _Fuck._

“You're grieving, it's not right! I don't want to take advantage of you, because I know you wouldn't be saying all of this, if not.”

“That's not true.” Hermione could hear the authenticity in Ginny's voice. “I want you.”

With that, Hermione pushed Ginny flush to her against the closest wall and pressed their lips together as hard as she could. Her reservations were almost completely gone, but she wanted to make sure Ginny knew they could stop at any time.

"If at anytime you want to stop, we can. Just say the words."

“'Mione,” Ginny softly moaned into her mouth. _Fuck. I'm going to die tonight._

Hermione, with an avid fervour, recollided their mouths as she slipped her fingers in Ginny's red, luscious locks. After only minutes, their tongues were sliding together in an almost perfect harmony.

It was primal desire, in ways Hermione never knew she could feel. It was demanding, and all of her senses were heightened to their highest of extremes.  
Ginny peppered kisses down her neck, faint at first, until she started to nibble and bite at her pulse point.

Hermione sighed, just in time catching her breath to suppress a held-in moan. _This has to be about her. Focus, Hermione. Focus._ Hermione backed away, seeing the sudden fear that washed over the other witch's face. _She can't possibly think I'd be the one to stop now that we're, at this point. I'd never-_

“Can I?” Hermione asked, holding the first button of Ginny's blouse.

“Yes,” she moaned, causing the hairs on the back of Hermione's neck to rise. Ginny's eyes were still puffy, but there were no more new tears. _Thank Merlin_ , again, Hermione thought. “Please.”

With that, Hermione made quick work of the buttons, and as soon as the blouse was off the fit witch's frame, a deep blush settled across her features. Ginny moved her hands to behind her back and unclasped her onyx-laced bra, leaving her completely nude from the torso up.

Hermione flushed an even deeper shade of crimson as her eyes took in the beautiful, Quidditch player's body. She was pale and freckled, and her breasts were perky with nipples such a soft pink, Hermione could already feel just how wet her panties were.

She shut her eyes, for a moment, and took a deep breath before lunging forward and kissing Ginny again. They kissed long and hard, before Hermione made her way down the witch's speckled chest. Ginny smelled of strawberry soap, grass, and a faint smell of broom polish, Hermione assumed would be more poignant when Ginny would go back to playing, hopefully next year at the latest.

Hermione made her way shyly to Ginny's breasts, experimentally kissing around her nipples before lifting her thumb and brushing across each one carefully. They were already hard to the touch, and for the first time, Hermione couldn't help the moan that escaped her lips. This was all too much to handle.

Ignoring the nerves that fluttered so fervently in her stomach, Hermione ducked down, taking one nipple into her mouth. She had no idea what she was doing, but she couldn't find it in herself to care right now.

Soon, Hermione's tongue flicked over the hardened nubs, scraping them with her teeth as Ginny moaned a bit louder and more erratic each time. She must like it, Hermione thought. Her confidence growing, Hermione sucked harder and harder until Ginny whispered her name under her breath. _Does she even realise just how sexy she is?_

Hermione released Ginny's nipple and slowly kissed her way down her stomach, moving one of her hands towards the witch's trousers.

“'M-Mione,” Ginny pleaded as Hermione continued, thinking she was only moaning. “Hermione,” she said this time with a bit more conviction.

“Yes?” Hermione looked up at Ginny. _Does she want to stop? Did I go too far?_

“We can't continue.” Hermione's smile fell before the witch could clarify, and she drew herself back from Ginny's body. “I mean, we can't continue here. If you're-” she quivered.

“If I'm?”

“If you're planning on continuing what you're doing further...”

“You mean, if I'm planning on licking you. Right?”

“Yes,” Ginny admitted as she blushed a shade of red that was even deeper than her hair. Hermione couldn't help but chuckle. Ginny was too cute and unfairly sexy like this, dishevelled and horny for no one other than her.

“Come,” Hermione said, taking the witch's hand and bringing her to her bedroom. She knew she'd need to swallow her own nerves in order to make Ginny feel at ease, for this next part. _You've got this, Hermione. Don't fuck this up!_

In the bedroom, Ginny looked around sheepishly. It wasn't a big room, one queen bed with stacks and stacks of books on the windowpane. There was a bare minimum of decorations. Hermione hadn't been there long enough to really arrange things properly.

Hermione knew it was dumb, but part of her, felt embarrassed that she couldn't bring the witch somewhere better than this. Some place luxurious or worthy of the redhead. _Am I even worthy of someone like her?_ Hermione sighed internally, trying not to dwell on semantics she now couldn't change.

“You're so beautiful, Ginevra!” Hermione tilted Ginny's chin up, so, their gaze could meet again. “I've been wanting this for such a long time. I just never thought I'd get it.” It was now Hermione's turn to blush again.

Trying to make Ginny more comfortable, Hermione slowly removed her own clothing. She was wearing a simple black buttoned down dress. Ginny watched in awe as she scanned over Hermione's body and removed her last article of clothing alongside her panties.

Speechless, they both stood there for a second, looking at the other and wondering how they'd only gotten to this place after years and years of friendship. It seemed all so obvious to them now that there walls were down, the years of hopeless pining. There was nothing to hide no longer.

They were both bare, literally and figuratively, standing in front of the other utterly naked. Hermione dropped her gaze and drew herself forward, pushing Ginny softly onto her matress. Ginny backed herself up on her elbows as Hermione came closer. Her heart thrummed intensely in her chest.

“Relax,” Hermione breathed as she started at Ginny's bellybutton and made her way down, inhaling Ginny's scent. She was sweet and intoxicating. It made Hermione feel dizzy. She was more anxious than she'd ever been in her short life, yet excited, all the same.

Hermione's hands came to Ginny's hips as she made her way down to her legs, pressing a kiss to her inner thigh. The skin was impossibly supple and soft there, and Ginny let out a quiet sigh. Her fingers tangled into Hermione's curly hair as the witch continued to get closer and closer to her core.

Hermione was so wet, she wondered if it was possible to have an orgasm merely off watching and listening to Ginny alone. In itself, it was the most erroctic thing she'd ever had the chance to experience.

“I want to know the way you taste,” Hermione avowed. Ginny squirmed under her touch and the confession.

“Damn, fuck, 'Mione,” Ginny whimpered breathlessly. “Please, do it.”

“Do what?” Hermione pressed as Ginny reddened vehemently. Hermione gave one last kiss to Ginny's inner thigh. She wasn't going to force her to say it. The witch was already so timid and stunning.

Hermione couldn't take another moment of waiting. She leisurely darted her tongue out to taste Ginny for the first time. _So sweet!_ Hermione almost purred in delight. Immediately, the redhead's fingers went tight and pulled Hermione's hair ever-so-slightly.

In the matter of seconds, Hermione was buried in slick ginger curls as her tongue flicked along Ginny's folds passionately, trying to capture all of her honeyed taste. Hermione's head swam. Ginny's soft moans made her tingle and throb.

Her thoughts became so extremely explicit, it was hard to breathe. Hermione wanted nothing more than to rub herself against Ginny's wet pussy, feel as both their cores warmed and doused. _No. Focus. Focus._

Hermione slipped one finger inside Ginny, and her tongue slowed. She still wasn't certain what she was doing. She'd done most of this to herself, of course, but touching someone else, especially Ginny of all people, made her stomach tighten, and her breaths come faster. It made her jittery and light-headed, like the first time she'd held a wand, or even better, the first time she'd cast a spell.

“More-please, Hermione,” Ginny said, her voice nearly lost inside her moan, and Hermione was helpless. She eased another finger inside and thrusted them together as Ginny inhaled sharply.

“Yes-like that,” she said. Her fingers tightened in Hermione's hair, pulling on the strands just hard enough for Hermione to feel it, and that edge of desperation spurred Hermione on more than she'd even been prior. _Fuck. She's so hot!_

Finally she found it, a little hard nub that made Ginny's thighs clench with her first touch. She swirled her tongue around it, but Ginny rutted against her, rolling her hips with every thrust of Hermione's fingers. She couldn't believe it. Hermione ached with this want, and it was so all-encompassing. 

She couldn't help herself; she shoved one hand into her knickers and curled her fingers inside, rubbing herself in time with the rocking of Ginny's hips. It didn't take long. In the matter of moments, they were shuddering through their orgasms as Hermione's tongue flicked and swirled Ginny's clitoris over and over again, trying to stretch time as much as possible.

“H-Hermione,” Ginny panted.

“Y-Yeah,” Hermione said, coming up and collapsing on the pillow beside Ginny. _I can die at peace now._

“That was incredible!”

“It really was.” Hermione took Ginny in her arms and kissed the top of her head as she still fought to catch her breaths.

“But I didn't get to do you,” Ginny sighed.

“No, don't think of that.” Hermione rubbed circles into the witch's freckled shoulder blade. “Tonight was about you. When I saw you on my doorstep, drenched to the bone and repressing all of your emltions- Actually all of these days, worrying sick if you'd be okay-” Hermione teared up. _This isn't about me. I'm so stupid for crying over this!_

“Hey, hey,” Ginny replied. “Knowing you were there for me, it made all the difference these last weeks. Your owls, showing up uninvited to my house to see my family and me even if I didn't come down, asking my mom to make sure I'd come. And tonight, tonight was-”

“It was, what?” _Breathe. She just slept with you. She's obviously not going to say anything bad._

“It was everything I've ever wanted, okay?”

“You mean that?” Hermione couldn't help the neediness that lingered noticeably in her own voice.

“Yes.” Hermione had never been this happy. _Happiness. I just want to be happy. I just want her to be happy._ She thought maybe now that was a possibility.

Hermione hummed as she whispered more sweet nothings into Ginny's ear, except this time they weren't “its okays” and “shhs”, it was “you're beautifuls” and “I promise I won't leave your sides”.

“You know, he would've loved us together!”

“You think so?”

“Yeah,” she laughed, nostalgia, happiness, and sadness all blended into her laughter. "He always wanted you to be part of _our_ family, but he didn't think Ron and you were a good fit!"

“He didn't, why?”

“He'd _kill_ me if I told you this-” Her voice caught on the word.

“Shh, it's okay. I'm here.” Hermione wiped away Ginny's tears, kissing her high cheekbone to comfort her as much as she knew how to.

“He thought you deserved better than Ron, that he wouldn't intellectually stimulate you or something along those lines.”

“Are you sure you're not adding that part yourself?”

“Maybe,” Ginny smirked “but I know it was something like that, he never hold me exactly why though.”

And at that, they both started to laugh and tickle each other as Ginny attacked Hermione with a pillow. Soon, feathers were everywhere as they played like children not lost in their own sorrows and kissed like lovers with all the time in the world. They did this until sleep finally took them far, far away in its tired, tired arms.

_Happiness._

**_Fin._ **

**Author's Note:**

> Comments & reviews are love ♡


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